Better not touch
by Annuette-anon
Summary: WesXander. Wes takes a detor and gets a suprise. This is set just after season 3 and I've borrowed lyrics from Alice Cooper's 'Poison but this is using the new verson of the song by Groove Coveragewhich has a real beat to it


Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me, they belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement is intended.

Wesley's not sure of the last time he saw a club so packed, even when there was live entertainment on offer. Which makes him even surer that his guess is completely wrong. He fingers the flyer that has enticed him here this night, the flyer proclaiming in bold letter that for that night, the last night only Xander is performing. It's a wild guess, can't possibly be the Xander Harris he knew and lusted after. That Xander was closer to homophobia then homosexuality, would never dream of stripping off in front a club full of men, but somehow the dark, shadowed man hidden cleverly by PhotoShop on the flyer front had made him wonder.

Conversation is dying down now as the lights begin to dim almost to darkness; even the stage isn't lit, only the glow from each tables candle allows Wesley to squint and make out a shadowed figure on the stage. The atmosphere seems to grow heady as anticipation grows, no one makes a move or sound as all eyes are locked on the stage eagerly awaiting the appearance of 'Xander'. Wesley has to resist the urge to clear his throat and break the silence, choosing instead to take a sip of his beer; the ex-Watcher-turned demon Hunter is startled when a husky male voice proclaims,

"Welcome to the one and only fabulous Gentlemen's club!"

At the clapping and catcalls that follow, the voice somehow manages to project over the top to proclaim,

"And bid a sad farewell until next summer, for the hottest man this side of California-Xander!"

Wesley is almost bowled over by the intensity of the emotion that sweeps the room. Men are clapping, yelling and shrieking like teenage girls as Xander's name is mentioned. Wesley's eyes are glued to the stage as he takes another thoughtful sip thinking how neatly this Xander's leaving times with the beginning of the Highschool term. As the catcalls die down, a slow bass beats from the stage area and Wesley finds himself leaning forward towards the stage along with every other man in the club. A husky voice sings along with the music,

"Your cruel device  
your blood, like ice  
One look, could kill  
My pain, your thrill..."

The words have Wesley attention briefly but the stage has it a moment later; lights softly illuminate the dark, haired young man that stands in the centre. The young mans head hangs low obscuring his face and so Wesley takes in the body that stands submissively before them, poised for heaven knows what. The dark red silk shirt moulds to the boy's body and is open enough for Wesley to glimpse the glistening tanned skin underneath. The Demon hunter doesn't even realise his bottle is still held to his lips as his eyes move lower taking in the tight leather pants which snugly encase the strippers legs and, oh my bare feet. Wesley can't help but shift a little at that, arousal flooding him. The boy's pose is purely submissive, his outfit that of a pet perhaps, Wesley isn't sure. The music hangs caught on a beat and at that instant the boy on stage moves. His head still down he begins to dance, not so much swaying but actually dancing in time to the music; he could almost pass for a normal professional dancer. At first.

"I wanna love you but I better not touch  
I wanna hold you, but my senses tell me to stop"

At 'I'd better not touch' the boy throws back his head running hands through his hair as he does; he continues to dance to the beat as his hands travel slowly down the back of his head and onto his neck, his fingernails catching and leaving red welts on his skin. Wesley so intent on watching those hands as they move to unbutton the few buttons the shirt has, he doesn't realize the boy is now looking at the audience; now looking directly at him. Until he looks up into the familiar brown orbs of one Alexander Harris. Wesley stills seeing momentary panic flare in Xander's eyes as he places him and he can't help a slightly small sting of cruel satisfaction although he's glad that it doesn't put Xander off dancing. Who knew impetuous, tiresome Alexander Harris could dance like that? Wesley has fantasized many moments like this, of seeing something other then just a tiresome young man who dislikes him. Part of him wants to put Xander off, to ruin his last night in retribution for all the sarcastic comments and criticisms the young man's thrown his way over the last year. But he can't. Wesley's lusted for so long, put up with so much it's almost second nature; besides having his lust interest dance for him on stage has always been a fantasy of his. So he merely smiles somewhat coolly and raises his beer.

The relief that floods Xander's eyes doesn't in anyway detract for the erotic picture he is painting as the Scooby-turned-stripper lets his shirt fall to the ground behind him. As he dances he closes his eyes, running fingers over the welts his nails left; when he opens them his audience is staring at him, arousal and lust visible in their eyes. It only boosts his confidence and in a fluid movement Xander takes hold of his cleverly designed leather pants and rips them off, revealing a black leather thong.

"Your poison running through my veins  
Your poison, I don't wanna play these games"

Wesley shifts in his seat, his erection painfully pressed against his jeans. Xander's acceptance and sweet relief only increases his arousal. It's as though Xander's playing into his fantasy, taking him up on that. Wesley takes a sip of beer wanting not to think about that, wanting not to consider the implications and desperately wanting not to want Xander on his knees in front of him. As if he could hear Wesley's thoughts, Xander spreads his legs, running his hands down his body before he drops to his knees.

"Your mouth, so hot  
Your web, I'm caught  
Your skin, so wet  
Black lace, on sweat"

Sweat glistens on Xander's skin and Wesley grips the table edge, torn between wanting to leave before his fantasy was dispelled and wanting to move to the stage and trace the sweat beads with his tongue. Wesley groans along with the audience as Xander sways, his hands massaging his body, teasing all the skin but staying well away from the thong covered region. The region half the men in the club were focussed on seeing. 

"I hear you calling and it's needles and pins  
I wanna hurt you just to hear you screaming my name"

Wesley isn't sure when Xander gets to his feet but as the man's hands finally skim teasingly over his leather covered crotch, he mentally agrees with the singer. He definitely wants to hear Xander screaming his name, see the man dancing for him and only him…oh sweet lord; Wesley sucks in a breath as the thong comes off in one movement, as Xander dances to the beat putting himself completely on show. Wesley watches Xander gyrate; dancing for his own pleasure as much as everyone does elses. As his eyes lock with Xander's once more, Wesley is shocked to see the mischief that shines from the young mans eyes as though he has been dancing for Wesley all this time and no one else.

"I'm starting to see. But I didn't believe…" Wesley murmurs to himself; at first he believes he is imagining it but the silent invitation those eyes promise and the wink that follows, convinces him he's not. Xander drops to his knees, his skin still gleaming with sweat and his head bowed in a final act of submission as the music ends on a finally sentence.

"I don't wanna break these chains."

The stage darkens as cheers and claps flood the club; as if released from a trace Wesley sinks back against his leather chair, unsure whether he's more stunned or aroused. Xander's absence from the stage as the lights come back up, makes it harder for the Demon Hunter to wonder if the whole thing wasn't a dream The question becomes even harder to answer when a Waiter brings him another drink and presses the bill into his hand. Slightly shaky Wesley turns over the bill to see his final total and is surprised to see it paid for; not only that at the bottom is a small note.

/Good to see you out of Sunnydale Wes, if you fancy coming backstage and seeing my outfit again just let Jerry at the bar know. I look forward to it. Xander. /

An almost bewildered smile crosses Wes face as he stares at the note in bemusement, unsure if it's a joke or not. Part of him wants to stride out the club with dignity attached, the other wants to satisfy his erection; with a glance towards the stage his mind is made up and curling the note in his head, taking a chance he never thought he'' have, Wesley walks towards the bar the image of Xander in chains playing out nicely in his head.


End file.
